Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Tonga and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing James Chance & The Contortions to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Deadbeat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
Grandmaster Flash,
Massinfluence,
a-ha,
Shoche,
Marc Almond,
Malaria!,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Todd Terry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Symarip,
Dead Boys,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Agitation Free,
Magazine,
The Monks,
The Sonics,
The Associates,
The Standells,
Y Pants,
Janne Schatter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Pussy Galore,
Qualms,
New York Dolls,
The Dead C,
Amon Düül II,
The Mojo Men,
The Blackbyrds,
Simply Red,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
China Crisis,
John Cale,
The Raincoats,
Youth Brigade,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Black Flag,
The Happenings,
Warsaw,
Jacob Miller,
Ossler,
L. Decosne,
The Toasters,
The Kinks,
Rufus Thomas,
Model 500,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Susan Cadogan,
Yazoo,
Dawn Penn,
10cc,
Lebanon Hanover,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bluetip,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roger Hodgson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Invisible,
Basic Channel,
Royal Trux,
Soft Machine,
Camouflage,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.